The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1) by Dela

we’re doing? Everyone is going to be there, so it’ll befun.”
    “I might stop by. I have to deposit my last check from Lucky Pin and work on my history report that’s due tomorrow.”
    I could hear Bri yelling at her little brothers on the other end. “One hour,” she said before hangingup.
    I checked my e-mail, curious if Lucas had happened to e-mail me back. Zip. Now I’d have to stop by the library too. That lazy piece of  . . . 
    I cursed under my breath as I dressed. With the storm, everything had cooled off a ton. The leaves were changing colors quickly and falling in flurries that left the branches bare. I slipped into a light sweater, not understanding why anyone would want to go to the lake to hang out. The water would be freezing. But I hopped in the Subaru anyways, turned up the heat, and headed to my bank at the edge oftown.
    It was a small building surrounded by towering pine trees, just off the 89. Thunder had gradually become constant, and the underbrush rattled as I stepped out into the empty parking lot. I ran inside, out of the drizzle, deposited my check, and went back into the grayness. Then I heard a suddenness of soft whispers carrying on thewind.
    I froze in my tracks and checked around for other people, holding my breath. But there was no one. As I looked back at my car, a shower of simultaneous lightning bolts struck the mountainside just past the bank. It was unnatural and terrifying, but amazing—I counted at least fifteen bolts at one time. I stepped out from under the bank’s awning, watching in astonishment as the barrage continued for seconds, then minutes. And then, before I knew it, my ears were listening to musical rain tapping on the asphalt, the lightning had stopped, and the whispers weregone.
    I hustled to my car, slammed the door shut, and fumbled for the locks. It was a false sense of safety, but I did it anyway. I revved the wagon and took off toward the lake, not wanting to be alone anymore. When I hit Baldwin Beach and found the gravel-covered driveway along Route 89, I turnedin.
    My stomach immediately twisted into knots. Poppy’s red sedan was parked next to Jett’s black truck. Bri’s car was there too, and many others I didn’t know. I shifted into reverse quickly, backed out, and headed for the pier. Why was Poppy there? It was midday. High school didn’t let out for a few morehours.
    I drove to the pier, furious, feeling blindsided by Jett. The windshield wipers were working double time, but the rain poured down in sheets, and their tiny blades couldn’t work fast enough. The parking lot was empty when I pulled in. I parked by the staircase that led down to the dock between the library and the coffee shop, where I intended to gofirst.
    As I stepped underneath the eaves and out of the rain, I heard my name spoken in a way that gave me shivers. I stopped and turned. The sexiness in it excited me, but I felt an uncontrolled rage coming when I saw Lucas walking towardme.
    I was about to give him a mouthful for pulling the no-show on me when suddenly a pounding rose in my chest, rhythmic andhard.
    “Were you always like this?” Lucas asked as I grabbed the doorframe to steady myself. He clearly realized he was done for, even though I’d grabbed my chest to stop thepain.
    “Like what?” I snarled, out ofbreath.
    “Angry. You are angry alot.”
    The pounding spiked, and it was too hard to stand. I bent over and braced myself, clutching my fingers over my knees. “No. It started after the accident.” I hated that I was telling himthis.
    “What started after the accident?” Lucas leaned in and put his hand on myback.
    I focused on his blue eyes through short breaths. They were blurry, so I squinted as I wheezed, “The moodiness, the obsessive compulsiveness, the migraines, the heartpain.”
    The worry that consumed his face sharpened. “Zara, are youokay?”
    “I’m fine, Lucas,” I snapped. As luck would have it, the pressure lifted and I could